Caught in a Storm
by JunKing
Summary: After a shocking betrayal by the man he used to see as a father, Peter struggles to cope with the loss and find his way home through a storm.
1. Caught in a Storm

There are plenty of ways to lose a loved one, but not enough ways to get them back. This is what Peter pondered as he stood outside, looking up at the night sky barely visible through a patch of dark clouds. The winds picked up and howled. Lightning bolts tore through the air, leaving behind the sound of rage and anger that beat ever so deeply within his heart. He lit another cigarette. Curse Hwoarang for introducing him to the nasty habit.

Weeks ago, Peter lost contact with King. The two of them had history together, different stories depending on which of the two you would ask. Through all of that history, the pages now burned away. None of it mattered anymore. At least not to King. Peter had looked up to this man like he would a father. He turned to him for guidance and sought to be just like him. There was a time when he thought the older man was the ideal role model. He was wrong. That was because the man he thought he was turned out to be an illusion, a shard of truth broken like the beer bottle clutched in the young man's hand.

King had saved Peter's life years ago and it was ever since that day that Peter clung to him in an emotional way that proved to be devastating. Had King ever cared about him? Maybe. Did he now? Well if he did, it certainly didn't show. Weeks ago, Peter found himself abandoned by his father figure. Yet another father ripped away from his grasp. The security he once relished in, shattered beyond repair. Never again could he turn to him for advice. The days of him knocking on his door for comfort were now but a distant memory. A dream almost. A twisted ounce of joy in his brain, like a drug, ravaging it to the core.

All he could do was wonder, _Where did I go wrong? What did I do to deserve this betrayal?_ As if it mattered now. Because the only heart broken belonged to him and him alone. No one else cared or even understood the gravity of his loss. To Peter, King represented so many things. Redemption, happiness, strength, but most importantly hope. Now that hope had vanished, like the embers flickering away from the cigarette between his lips.

The winds all but attacked the young man now, his body swaying slightly back and forth. He did his best to resist being thrown into the mud beside him. Rain began to pour down, beating relentlessly against his face and chest. His clothes and spirit soaked, all the young man could think about was how to keep his cigarette lit. Each breath of smoke he exhaled, wisped away into nothingness. He must be crazy. To be out here at four in the morning, braving through a tropical storm when he could be sound asleep in a nice warm bed. But he found himself not caring. The ensuing chaos of the storm around practically mirrored the chaos inside his mind. The streets were barely lit and not a sound but the wind and thunder echoed through his ears.

In all the years he had known King, he never knew him to be a liar and a coward. Yet that was what he saw him as at the moment. He had tried to talk to the man, find out what it was that caused the separation between the two. His attempts were met with unreturned phone calls, e-mails most likely lost in the void of a spam box. Doorbells ringing away into an empty house. _Why did he abandon me?_ All he wanted was an answer. Any answer would do.

If for some reason King hated the man, Peter would have wanted to hear it now. That way, he would be able to move forward knowing there was nothing he could do to win back his friendship. But instead, he found himself chained up and locked away in a prison of his own creation. A mental hell of which he could not currently escape by himself. Throwing the broken beer bottle in his hand aside, Peter cursed under his breath. He had done so much for King. He had done his best to be there for him whenever he could. Loyalty.

But what that loyalty became was blind faith. And now he was left alone again, just like with his birth parents. He was left to fight life all on his lonesome. Was it so much to ask to have a light at the end of the tunnel? To have the prospect of being able to wake up from this nightmare? Because no matter how hard Peter tried to open his eyes, the storm still surrounded him and tossed him from side to side. Rain still slapped against his sullen face, and thunder still rendered his ear drums numb.

To have a gift given to you only to watch it be taken out of your hands. That was what he felt. A way out of this road now permanently blocked off like a bridge under construction. And could he cross it? He didn't know. All he knew was that he would remember this day. He would remember the day King turned his back on him and never looked over his shoulder. What hurt him the most was knowing that while he stood out here trying to find his way home, King was most likely sound asleep with not a care in the world. He probably didn't care about the damage he had done to the young man.

There was a time when King would refer to Peter as his son, a name that the boy so longed to hear since he was orphaned at a young age. And yet, where was he now? _Bastard,_ Peter thought. To come into his life and make him care, to make him feel like life was worth living and for what? To turn around and take it all back. To leave him in the dust and disown him the way his birth father did. How dare he, after everything Peter had done for him. Peter lost count of how many birthday gifts he handed to the man. The paychecks practically shoved through a shredder just to see King smile for a minute. All in an attempt to feel what it was like to have a father, to be able to feel normal like everyone else around him. Father's Day used to be his favorite day of the year because King made him forget about all the horrible things his blood father had done to him. But now he dreaded every third Sunday of June. Because now it would be almost like torture. Every year from here on out, he would have to watch sons hug their fathers. He would drive by the beach and watch them fishing together. He would graduate college and be one of the few who couldn't step off the stage and take a picture with his dad.

King symbolized all of that to him, and now he felt as if he was the victim of a cruel prank. He had been given a sample of normalcy and just like the nicotine flowing into his lungs, he craved more. Tossing the burnt filter off into the grass beside him, he whipped out another cigarette and desperately flicked the lighter against the tobacco, his thumb blistered from constant attempts to create a spark. He shielded the flame the way he felt King used to protect his spirit. Through the rain before him, he couldn't even see which direction to go. He had not the slightest clue how to get home. And then the realization hit him. He would die and never see his protector again. Never again would he share a laugh or a joke with him. Never again would he have the chance to apologize after an argument. Those days were long gone, flowing into the past like the rain into the sewers beneath him. And what's worse, he would never know why. He would never understand why King had to leave him behind.

Yes, there are worse things than death. This being one of them. Peter could have been home safe and sound, watching a wrestling match with King like he normally would have around this time of night. But for now, he was caught in a storm with no knowledge of how he came to be there. No where to turn, no safe place to shield him from getting drenched. He could stand here and wait for his phone to sound off with King's name on the caller ID, but he knew better. It would never ring. For now, he would have to find his way home by himself, just like before. _Damn, I need another cigarette._


	2. Knock, Knock

The blaring sound of a car horn snapped Peter awake. His eyes darted open to see that he was laying in his bed. Giving himself a moment to fully wake up, he looked around and out the window nearby. There was no car in sight, so he chalked it up to a passerby. Gripping his head, he rested it back into his pillow and tried to fall back asleep. Eyelids heavy, it didn't take very long for him to drift back off into the comfort of his dreams.

Knock, knock!

The sound made Peter jump in surprise. Looking over to the clock near his bed, he realized that he had fallen asleep for about another hour or so. It was around five in the morning and it was still dark. With a yawn and a stretch, he shifted clumsily out from beneath the covers and made his way to the front door. Upon opening it, he was surprised to see King standing there.

"Shit, I forgot about the run," he said to the older man. King shook his head and laughed.

"Maybe you should be getting your ass to bed early instead of late as hell like you always do. Well are you gonna go get ready or what?" King walked into the house and sat down on the couch, leaving Peter to close the door and rush off into his bedroom.

"I'll be out in a few minutes, just going to go change real quick. Take food or whatever from the kitchen if you want!" said Peter as he closed his bedroom door. Little did he know, King was already making his way to the fridge before he even said anything.

Minutes later, King watched as the younger man in front of him adjusted his running shoes. "Okay I'm ready, let's go." said Peter.

"This time try and keep up!" Though King was always playfully making jokes with him, Peter knew he often said the things he did as a form of motivation. Laughing to himself, Peter followed the older man outside and onto the sidewalk. Though he ran frequently, he always hated the beginning of the run. His body went into that familiar warm up stage and he had to adjust the way he was breathing. Once into it, he didn't really seem to mind all that much.

Towards the end of the run, King looked over and patted him on the back. "You ready to catch some fish?" He was referring to the fishing trip that he promised Peter he'd take him on. They were going to head down to the beach before sunrise after the run. Fighting the desire to stop running, Peter panted and nodded at the same time. He may not have shown it, but he was highly excited to go fishing with King. He remembered years ago being told that they were going to go, but things always got in the way and it never happened. Today would be the first time in his life that he went fishing. It was something that his birth father never taught him, yet the young man always wanted to do. A part of him wondered why he viewed the activity with so much importance. Maybe it was because when he was younger, he always saw sons fishing with their fathers. And when his father didn't make the effort to take him, he felt as if he missed out on that particular bonding experience. Maybe by going with King, he would somehow make up for that lost time with a father figure.

"Hey, can we slow down a little bit?" asked Peter. King responded by reaching over and shoving him into the grass.

"Come on, fat ass! We're almost back to your house!" With an endearing roll of the eyes, Peter managed to push himself through to the very end. Once home, he found himself another change of clothes and jumped into the shower. _I can't believe we're finally going fishing, after all this time._

Before he knew it, Peter found himself standing on a dark beach. He was holding a fishing rod, trying ever so carefully to mimic King's actions. At first, he couldn't even manage to get a decent throw, but after a little direction from his father figure, he was able to cast his line into the dark sea. The sky was royal blue, stars littering the atmosphere. The white moon shone like a pearl off to the right of the abyss. Not a soul could be seen for miles other than Peter and King. Waves poured across the shore, creating a mild hissing sound before retracting back into the endless depths.

Peter inhaled the crisp salty air and looked over to King. He was so happy to be here and this was a moment that he knew he would cherish forever. "Thanks for taking me here, King." he said.

"What?" The older man could barely hear him over the crashing waves before his feet.

"I said thank you." Peter repeated.

"Did you really think I wasn't going to take you? I made you a promise didn't I?" King's words echoed in Peter's mind. There was a time when he believed that the older man didn't care. He felt alone and betrayed by this man and yet after everything that had happened between them, here they were. A small smile crept across his lips as Peter nodded and looked back at the horizon ahead. King continued to speak,

"Well I'm glad that you came with me. Hey! I'm feeling something on my line, watch how its done!" The sound of King reeling back the line whizzed through the air and in a matter of seconds, a large fish was yanked from the water. Upon grabbing hold of the fish, King removed the hook and tossed it into a bucket behind them. "Pressure's on now for you to catch the next one."

"I'll try my damndest." said the young man. Minutes went by without a bite, but to Peter it didn't matter. After all, he wasn't really here for the fish, he was here for the company. The sky began to brighten gradually as the sun approached the horizon. A sound caught his ear and when he turned to see what it was, he couldn't help but find the situation humorous. A crane stood behind the two men, peering cautiously into the fish bucket. It looked both innocent and devious at the same time. Standing like a statue, it was almost as if Peter could hear its thoughts. He imagined that the crane was asking itself if he should try and grab the fish and run. He wondered if the bird was keeping an eye on them to make sure they didn't interrupt his attempt of thievery.

"Hey King," he said, "check that out." As soon as King laid eyes on the crane, he yelled at it and chased it away. Watching a grown man chasing after an animal made him grin ear to ear. Laughing silently to himself, he looked back to sky. Deep blues were turning into light purples. Light purples were turning to soft pinks. Soft pinks were edging into gentle reds. The sun was just about to rise.

"Well it doesn't look like I'm going to catch anything anytime soon, but I'm having fun. Bird and all." he said while watching King bring the bucket closer to them.

"Even though you are a terrible fisherman so far, I'm glad you're at least having fun with it. You know, you've always been like my kid."

Like a bullet through the head, King's words pierced deep into the younger man's heart. There it was again. Those words. The ones that Peter had longed to hear and the ones that filled the empty void deep within his mind. He allowed himself to smile, although not visible to King. The older man's hand found a resting place on Peter's shoulder before he spoke again.

"I mean that."

"Thanks, that means a lot to me, King." A small moment of silence passed between the two.

"Looks like the sun's about to rise." Peter looked at King and opened his mouth to speak, but a pain in his chest interrupted his sentence. Grabbing hold of it, he realized that everything about today seemed terribly wrong. He hadn't seen another person at all besides King. Come to think of it, he couldn't even remember how he had come back into contact with the man. In fact, the last thing he was starting to remember was walking outside in a storm. He was lost, chain smoking, and wishing that he could hear from King again.

The feeling of King's hand on his shoulder suddenly vanished and when he turned to look at him, he saw nothing but the empty beach.

"King?" He was gone. A bolt of lightning tore through the air and the sky began to dim. Dark clouds gathered and the heavens gave way to cold rain. The waves before him violently approached the shore, each one coming closer and closer to his feet. The sound of a car horn blaring echoed through his ears and before he could react, a surge of electricity surged through his chest, sending him falling backwards into the hardened sand.

"Clear!"

Peter snapped his eyes open and gasped deeply, his back arched off the gurney beneath him. Falling back onto the bed, he looked blankly at the defibrillators on his chest. The electricity in his chest died down and the doctor holding them looked down at him and smiled.

"Welcome back." It was then that Peter took in his surroundings completely. The sound of a heart monitor beeped in his ears. His arm had an IV and he was wearing a teal robe of some kind. Blood stained his body and a hideous bruise sat under his ribs. It took him several moments to realize, but he was in a hospital. But how could this be? Seconds ago, he was with King on his promised fishing trip. Darkness overcame his mind again and before he knew it, he'd fallen unconscious.

…

Slowly, the world began to seep back into his eyelids. Light poured in and sounds tickled his ear drums. Looking over, he saw himself in a different room than before. The same doctor stood nearby, reviewing his medical charts. Once he saw Peter awake, the man moved over to speak to him.

"You're awake, that's good. Don't worry about anything, you will be fine."

"…What happened?" he managed to get out.

"You don't remember? You were outside in the storm and due to the extreme conditions, a driver swerved out of control and hit you."

"…I was hit, by a car?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, it was a hit and run but the police are on it." The doctor paused before continuing, "You were lucky. A man drove by and found you on the side of the road."

"Who was he?" Before the doctor could say anything, the aforementioned man stepped forward into the room. His name was Raven and he was one of Peter's good friends from the tournaments.

"Welcome back to the realm of the living, Peter. I was on my way to see you when I saw you lying there. Anna and Detective Lei Wulong are tracking down the driver as we speak." Peter recognized those two names as other friends of his from the tournaments. Raven took a seat next to the bed and sat in silence. The doctor placed the charts he was holding back down and acknowledged the nurse entering the room.

"Good morning doctor. You on your way out yet?" she said.

"Yes in a couple of hours. I promised my son that I would take him fishing." he replied. Peter looked over at the doctor and remembered where he thought he was. With a sigh, he turned his neck and looked past Raven. Beyond him sat a window where he could see a view of the ocean. Just then, a crane flew through the air with a fish in its mouth. Had he the strength to laugh, he would've. Outside it was becoming brighter, the early morning hours fading into the night that had just fallen under the horizon.

"Raven, did I have any other visitors?" he asked silently, clearing his throat to speak more comfortably.

"He didn't come." replied the dark skinned man. He already knew who Peter was talking about.

"…I see. I'm sorry, I didn't thank you for bringing me here. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime. Just remember, even though things are going to be rough for awhile, you'll always have your friends to help you." Raven's words comforted Peter in a way that he knew he needed, especially now. It was then that the doctor approached him.

"Hey Peter, you are in good hands here. Everything will be fine, you'll see." Peter thanked him and watched as he and the nurse stepped outside the room to check on other patients.

Raven stood up and turned to the window behind him, folding his arms across his chest. "The sun is about to rise." Peter's eyes traveled to the window and then to the ceiling. He sighed deeply to himself. Silence befell the youth as he battled sadness from this disappointment he'd just awoken to. It was like a cruel joke. While he was under, he was able to see King again. He'd gone running with him. He'd gone fishing with him. It was then that King's words echoed through his mind again, _You know, you've always been like my kid. I mean that._

He knew that he couldn't take these words to heart, for they were never spoken to him today. The whole thing had been an illusion, possibly a near death experience turning itself into wishful thinking. He closed his eyes, tears held in his eyelids but refusing to fall.

_…You know, you've always been like my kid. I mean that…_

…_I mean that…_


End file.
